


the days I've thrown away and the hours that I am keeping

by shinealightonme



Series: every second second we come up with something new [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, these boys are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 08:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: "You said you wanted to.""That is a very broad interpretation of my words."





	the days I've thrown away and the hours that I am keeping

**Author's Note:**

> This was not ANY of the things I was supposed to be finishing next, life is chaos, plans are futile, we're all going to die some day, here, have some porn.

It's a lazy sunny day, the kind of fake summer afternoon spring throws out to get your hopes up before raining for a solid week, when Ronan asks Adam, "wanna fuck?"

 _Yes. Of course. Literally always_.

"I thought you were watching the show." They're streaming the BBC on Ronan's laptop, because Ronan somehow, inexplicably, got hooked on historical soap operas. He claims that he likes watching British people be miserable. Adam's pretty sure he just honestly enjoys costume dramas, but whatever. It's fun, having a guilty pleasure. Adam has felt guilty about a lot of things, but there was rarely _pleasure_ involved.

Ronan shrugs and leans back further against the bed. They were already half-sitting half-laying against the pillows, and now he's stretched out over the blankets in a way that is all of the invitation that Adam needs.

Which makes it all the weirder that Ronan _asked_. Not bad, just -- they usually don't bother. Sex has a way of happening on its own.

"If you don't want to, that's cool." Ronan tugs the computer up onto his lap, resting over his thighs, so that Adam pretty much has to look at his crotch either way.

Adam shuts the laptop and sets it on the nightstand on Ronan's side of the bed. He has to drape himself over Ronan in order to reach -- such a hardship -- and when he's set it down he doesn't move off, looks down on Ronan from above.

"Yes," he says, "I want to," and Ronan has to prop himself back up from his stupid _come hither_ seductive sprawl in order to kiss Adam. It is, at least, easy to push him down flat on his back again.

Ronan is into it at once, zero to lust in no time at all. That's one fear slain, that _asking_ meant he didn't want to, that he just thought Adam wanted to. Not so. He immediately slips his tongue into Adam's mouth and slides both hands through his hair to grip too hard, which has a Pavlovian effect on Adam's dick.

"If you like hair so much you could _grow out your own,_ " Adam says, trying to sound annoyed even though he's panting.

"Do you want me to stop?" Ronan pulls again before he can say anything, tugs him back in place for another kiss, and Adam groans a wordless answer into Ronan's mouth, _no, yes, that, more, touch me, touch me, touch me_.

Ronan toys with the hem of Adam's shirt, and he sits up to yank it off over his head.

Ronan stares at his bare chest in wonder, which doesn't make any sense anyway; Ronan is insanely hot, the kind of hot where strangers slow down to check him out and Blue's cousin comes up with flimsy excuses for him to stop by Fox Way. Which isn't _why_ Adam wants to do this, run his hands up Ronan's chest and push his shirt up and rest his fingers on the place in Ronan's throat where his pulse is racing for Adam, but it's a nice bonus, and it's weird that Ronan always responds to his touch as though Adam were just as gorgeous as he is. Logically it doesn't make sense, but --

Adam throws one leg over Ronan, a knee on either side of his thighs, and Ronan pushes up against him, already hard.

\-- logic can go take a hike.

Adam lays back on top of Ronan, skin against skin, sloppy kissing and ineffectual grinding. He tries a couple of time to unbutton Ronan's pants, get more skin contact, crucial contact, but Ronan is gripping Adam's ass, holding him too close for a hand to get between them.

It isn't urgent. Adam twines his fingers through Ronan's to hold one hand squeezed tight. Uses the other hand to grip the back of Ronan's neck, kissing and humping until it does become urgent, until he decides he really needs Ronan not to be wearing any pants anymore.

And hey, as long as they're _asking questions_ : "Can I blow you?"

"No." Adam blinks at Ronan, too surprised to respond. "You're supposed to fuck me."

"Oh." He licks his lips and swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. None of the sex that has a way of just happening has happened to include that. "Really?"

"You said you wanted to."

"That is a very broad interpretation of my words."

"You left your words open to interpretation."

"You think _I'm_ vague," Adam starts.

Ronan cuts him off. "I think you're trying to chicken out."

Adam realizes the thing that Ronan already knew, the thing that Ronan had anticipated, which is that he's nervous. The thought of doing this thing that is very new and very intimate freaks him the hell out. And the fact that he didn't know how he was feeling until well after Ronan did is annoying and extremely hot.

"Like hell I am." He finally gets to unbutton Ronan's pants, so he does, pulls them off, a little rough and a little vindictive. At that point he's already off of Ronan, so he figures he might as well stand up and take his own pants off.

And then, well. He's naked and Ronan's naked and Ronan's eyes are darting up and down like he can't decide where he wants to look, and Adam is supposed to climb back into bed and _fuck_ him.

Adam chews on a thumbnail, considering his strategy.

Ronan's eyes zero in on his mouth.

He stops. Licks his thumb, instead, and runs it over his lips, while Ronan and his easily exploited hand fixation hiss " _shit_ " appreciatively.

Adam decides that _climb back into bed and fuck him_ is an acceptably developed strategy.

There's condoms and lube in the nightstand that they've never really needed before. Adam had purchased them one night out of an excess of preparation; Ronan had mocked him for it while jerking him off. He'd point that out, now, that his preparation is paying off, except that he doesn't really feel prepared.

He gets the supplies and sets them down on the edge of the bed, kneels in between Ronan's legs. It feels weird to just -- go for it, so he leans forward to kiss the head of Ronan's cock, first, wraps his lips around it.

Ronan pokes him with one foot.

"That's cheating."

"How are you complaining about head," Adam grumbles, "you're unnatural." He licks the length of Ronan's cock out of spite, right along the vein. Adam had just been starting to feel like he'd gotten the hang of blowjobs. It figures Ronan would have to find some new way of throwing him off-kilter.

Ronan tugs his hair sharply. "Cheating," he says again, "knock it off."

Adam turns his face, presses it against Ronan's thigh. Nods once.

Ronan lets go of his hair.

Adam spreads lube on his finger and rubs it around Ronan's anus, reconsiders and uses even more lube. Only then does he slide his finger into him, very slowly. He figures it has to be uncomfortable.

"How does that feel?" he asks, because Ronan is staring up at the ceiling, biting his lip, expression indecipherable.

"It feels like there's a finger in my ass."

"Great," Adam mutters, "that's so helpful."

"What do you want, a fucking essay? Next time I'll do you and then you'll know."

Adam thinks about that, Ronan pressed up against him, behind him maybe, teeth sinking in to his neck, one arm wrapped around him and the other hand trailing down his body until it could enter him -- except no, Ronan wouldn't make it that easy, Ronan would absolutely tease him, touch him endlessly before he'd stick so much as a centimeter inside of him -- 

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Adam breathes out.

"Next time," Ronan says. "This is my turn."

"Yeah, right, yeah." Adam kisses the inside of his knee and goes back to fingering him, not careless but not so painstakingly cautious either, puts a second finger inside of him. He's still keeping a close watch on Ronan's every reaction, but it's not to check if he's in pain. He wants to see Ronan's enjoyment for it's own sake, and he wants to know what makes the muscles in Ronan's stomach tighten, what makes his breath catch, what makes him clench up around his fingers, so he can do it again, and again, until Ronan has clenched so hard that Adam can't slide his fingers any more, and then he curls them upwards.

Ronan groans, a short cut off sound. He presses one hand against his forehead, resolve in the face of an inhuman struggle. "Quit dicking around and fuck me."

"Wouldn't that be when I _start_ dicking around."

"Jesus, you're such a nerd," and it comes off his tongue with all of the weight of a thousand love poems.

Adam puts, just, a stupid amount of lube on his dick and rubs against Ronan's hole a few times. It spreads the lube around, and it feels amazing.

It also takes too long, apparently.

"You just have to put it in," Ronan says, "it's not complicated, idiots have been doing it for thousands of years. Cave people figured it out -- "

"Oh my God, shut up, I don't even know why I want you."

"Yes you do."

Adam looks in Ronan's eyes and yeah, he knows why. It's the mocking and the beauty and the clear-eyed way he sees what Adam is thinking and deals with it before Adam even notices what's happening. It's everything, and Adam leans forward and kisses Ronan swiftly, pulls back between his legs again.

"Ready?"

"Haven't you been paying attention?" and he is paying attention. It's in Ronan's eyes, that he knows why he wants Adam, too, so Adam pushes the tip of his cock inside of him.

" _Oh_." Adam stops, overwhelmed. Apparently he shut his eyes, and yes, that sounds right, anything that isn't sensation is just going to have to take a backseat to how good this feels. He pushes further into Ronan --

\-- and Ronan makes a choked off sound of pain.

Adam opens his eyes again. Ronan's shut his eyes, too, in a way that makes his whole face look closed off, and he's gripping the sheets tight in one fist.

Adam starts to pull out, just a little, and Ronan makes that noise again.

"Are you okay?"

It takes him a second to answer and when he does his voice is stretched out with tension. "Don't stop."

Adam doesn't move.

"Is that don't, comma, stop, or don't stop like keep going -- "

Ronan opens his eyes, pure exasperation. "I swear to god, Parrish, if you don't fuck me right now -- "

Adam pushes again, and he has something right that he didn't have a second ago because he slides in, deep, and Ronan's words dissolve into a moan.

"You'll do what?" Adam asks, breathless.

"What?"

"If I don't fuck you right now -- " He pulls out an inch just to slide back in, just to knock that desperate groan out of him again. " -- you'll do what?"

"You need a _reason_ to keep going?" Ronan demands, and yeah, when you put it like that, Adam doesn't need a whole lot more incentive.

He figures out, after the most thoroughly enjoyable trial and error of his life, that it's easier to fuck Ronan if Ronan's hips are up off the bed. He slides his right hand around to the small of Ronan's back, grips Ronan's hip with his left hand, and holds him up at -- oh fuck -- the optimal angle. Ronan groans his approval of the position, and Adam feels adventurous; he pulls out a little further with each thrust until he's nearly all of the way out before sliding back in, and that sends joyful shocking thrills through his gut, his heart, his brain.

Ronan wraps his legs around Adam's and digs his heels into the back of his thighs, like he wants to pull Adam closer, like they can get any closer than they are, and Adam says, "yes -- yes, I know."

It's funny. Adam is normally the loud one -- another thing Ronan will mock him for even as he's making him make those noises, a game that's fun whether he wins or loses, _Can Adam Keep Quiet During Sex_ \-- but today it's Ronan who can't stop making noise, so much pleasure that Adam would think it was pain except for how every inch of his body is begging Adam for more.

Adam reaches for him with his left hand, traces his parted lips with a finger. Ronan wraps his tongue around it to pull it into his mouth where he can suck on it. Adam coaxes another finger in and then works them in and out, mirror to the way his right hand opened Ronan earlier, how he is penetrating Ronan now. It strikes him how absolutely right this is, that they should be inside of each other, filling in the empty lonely places, _the world broke you and it broke me, but I can brace those parts that you can't fix, we can fit our broken parts together --_

Adam is breathing too fast, sharp and desperate. No matter how much oxygen he sucks in, it isn't enough. He's about to lose it, except _like hell_ is he going to come first.

He lifts his hand off Ronan's back and wraps it around his cock, instead. This time Ronan has no argument. The opposite: he bites down on Adam's fingers, lifts his hips up higher, digs his heels in deeper until Adam can hardly pull out, until Adam can only repeat the same deep thrust over and over, faster and faster, biting the inside of his cheek and shutting his eyes because if he watches the rapture on Ronan's face for even one more second he isn't going to last.

Ronan makes a sound, muffled around his fingers but unmistakably _satisfaction_. His cock twitches and spatters in his hand.

Adam gasps, "oh, thank God" as he's finally able to let go, hips pushing even further inside of Ronan than he knew was possible while he falls to pieces above him.

After -- after Adam has kissed Ronan, grinning too hard and clicking their teeth together, after Adam has pulled out and Ronan has yelped and Adam has laughed at him, after Ronan has wiped them off with his shirt, which is a fine shirt as far as showcasing his arms but is completely inadequate to the task of cleaning up the amount of lube that Adam had used -- after, Adam lies with his head on Ronan's shoulder and asks, "What brought all that on?" because he's been curious since Ronan went to the trouble of asking a question when he already knew Adam would say yes.

"I wanted to," Ronan says.

Adam thinks about it and decides, yes, some questions do have answers that simple.

He nuzzles Ronan's shoulder and scoots even closer to him, which in practical effect means he's mostly on top of him. Their ankles are crossed. He kicks Ronan's foot. "Put the show back on."

"What, now?"

"Why not? Unless you're worried it's going to get you all hot and bothered again -- "

"Everyone on this show is ugly and I hate it," Ronan argues, but he's opening the laptop back up.

"The duchess is hot."

"She's a countess," Ronan says, immediately, and Adam lifts his head to smirk at him: _oh, I thought you didn't care about the show?_

Ronan pushes Adam's face back down against his chest. "Oh, fuck you."

"Next time," Adam promises.

"Yeah, yeah, watch your stupid show," but Adam shuts his eyes instead, feels Ronan breathe and listens to the dialogue, muted, and the first few drops of rain falling on the roof overhead.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic you can [reblog it on tumblr](http://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/174362572820/the-days-ive-thrown-away-and-the-hours-that-i-am).


End file.
